


Kingpin

by rosegoldotps



Category: Better Call Saul, Breaking Bad
Genre: BB, Better Call Saul - Freeform, Breaking bad - Freeform, Cartel, F/M, OFC - Freeform, Original Character(s), Original Female Character - Freeform, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Ray Cruz - Freeform, Raymond Cruz - Freeform, Salamanca - Freeform, Social Anxiety, Tuco - Freeform, Tuco Salamanca - Freeform, bcs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-01 07:09:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18331118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosegoldotps/pseuds/rosegoldotps
Summary: Psychotic drug kingpin Tuco Salamanca meets anti-social, self conscious Catherine Hendrix. Being patient doesn't get you what you want - but it might get you what you need.This plays in the Better Call Saul timeline before Tuco goes to prison.





	1. Don't upset the Boss

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what this is. I was in desperate need of some Tuco fanfics because I rewatched Better Call Saul, but I couldn't quite find what I was looking for, so: I'm gonna take matters into my own hands.  
> Also: I know I promised y’all David Walliams. What can I say, I’m a mess.

Music, Spanish Trap from what Catherine could make out, was blasting her ears – loud enough for her not to understand a word of what anybody in the bar was saying, but not loud enough for her to leave the place for a fear of getting a headache. Since when did bars play music this loud, anyway? Granted, she hadn’t been in a bar for the last, what, four years? But the last time she checked, it was usually in clubs where you had to lean into your opponents’ ear to scream what you were trying to tell them.

She shot a quick look over her shoulder, watching her friend exit the bar for a smoke. She offered to stay to watch their drinks and their seats – it was Friday evening, not even night yet, but it was already cramped full –, but as she watched the blonde disappear behind a group of teens who just entered the place, she regretted her decision almost instantly. Truth be told, she regretted agreeing just coming here in the first place. But, she figured, if she would finally give in and go out with her friend, she could spend the next month or so in peace again, before having to deal with social activities again. But god, at what cost?

Awkwardly pushing the ice cubes around in her glass with her straw, the brunette felt her anxiety creep up on her – not that it ever left her alone. Now that her friend was gone, she felt every eye-pair in this bar on her, watching her every move. Which was nonsense, and, technically, she knew that. But that wasn’t how anxiety worked now, was it. She tried making herself small on the way too high barstool, let her hair fall from behind her ears to cover her face. While about ten seconds ago the music tuned out every other noise, she was now hyper aware of everything going on around her – the group of teens, three boys and two girls, trying to persuade the barkeeper into selling them drinks, a man’s eyes hovering on her face for a few seconds before deciding otherwise and searching for other prey, the couple to her right trying to get the barkeeper’s attention and then calling him names when he didn’t respond right away, a group of men busting out laughing in some corner, one Spanish song smoothly fading into the next one, and then a man, squeezing his way between her and the woman to her left who had her back to her. The other woman turned around to shoot the guy a look, then shuffled a bit forward on her barstool and went back to her drink. Catherine’s own eyes widened for just the friction of a second, before she copied the woman and concentrated on her drink, shaking her head the tiniest bit to cover even more of her face with her hair. _Just try and don’t catch anyone’s attention. Stacy will be back in just a few minutes, you’ll be fine._

“Hey, gorgeous. You come here often?” Her heart skipped a beat. Really? _Seriously?_ This had to be a joke. Maybe he wasn’t even talking to her. She starred down at her glass, a waterdrop gliding down on it suddenly being the most interesting thing in the bar.

“Hey chica, I’m talking to you.” Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. You know when you read about these scenarios and the girl being approached usually takes a few seconds to gather herself, taking a deep breath and all that jazz? Yeah well, real life wasn’t like that. When she turned to look at the guy, she felt like a deer in headlights. What she noticed first about the guy was the beard, semi-moustache, whatever you want to call it, which she thought made him look a little older than he probably was. Then she noticed the silver rosary and gold chain around his neck, looking out of place compared to his baggy clothes. She really didn’t want to draw any conclusions, but the feeling that he had no straight business seemed like the only option.

Forcing a smile on her lips, she turned a little to face the guy. “Uh, hi. Hey. No, actually, I-“, she stopped herself as a frown crept up on her face. Actually what? She stayed inside all day because she was afraid of exactly this happening? “It’s my first time here.” She gave the guy another tight smile, one of those you give friends-but-not-really-friends at the supermarket, before she returned to her cocktail again, sipping on it way too fast. Only alcohol could save her now. Or Stacy. _Stacy, where the fuck are you._

“What’s your name, huh?” Was it the alcohol or did the guy make her heart beat faster with every second? Either way, it wasn’t a very pleasant feeling. When she turned her head again, she looked at anything but the person looking at her, trying to make as little eye contact as possible.

“Listen, I’m here with my girlfriend. I’m really not looking for..”, she let the sentence hang in the air, making vague gestures with her hands, hoping the guy would get the hint. A few moments passed, and when she was sure she would meet angry eyes ready to insult her, the stranger let out a bark of a laugh and shook his head. “Ey, no need to jump me like that. It’s fine, was worth a try.” Then he winked and took off. Thank. The fucking. Christ. Though she wasn’t sure if she would be able to return to being as comfortable as a few minutes ago (although that didn’t say much because she hadn’t been comfortable to begin with), she felt herself relax into the barstool again, only now realizing her entire body had tensed up.

It wasn’t so much the fear of being approached. If a girl would come up to her right now and compliment her nail polish, god knows she would be all smiles and flushed cheeks, ready to make her her new best friend. It was rather the fear of being approached by men. Straight men, to be exact. Then again, which woman usually wasn’t?

She gave it about five seconds before she dared to turn around to look if the guy had actually taken off. And look there, he had. Matter of fact, she could make him out in the crowd, squeezing his way around people before he seemed to join a table in the corner of the bar. Now that she was looking in their direction, she could make out that the group of men she had heard laughing earlier seemed to be his friends. She couldn’t see the others, but soon after the guy sat down, another laughter erupted from the table, and then, because life couldn’t seem to give her a break, she saw two, three heads popping up, necks craning to get a look at the bar. Their eyes scanned it, each of them focusing on a different end, before all of them came to a stop. Her. They were looking at her.

She snapped around so fast she almost knocked the glass over. God, she hated bars. Going out. Being under strangers. Did they make fun of her? What did the guy tell them? Was this some stupid dare? This was just great. Now she would be aware of every single movement she did for the rest of the night, feeling like she was watched by some bullies, or worse, pervs, the entire time. She should have endured Stacy’s begging, it would have been so easy. Now she felt watched, was alone and didn’t have any alcohol left. She couldn’t order a new cocktail either because, well, what if the bartender or the people around her judged her? She had already had a drink, and judging her more than curvy frame, people would probably think she shouldn’t have treated herself to that one in the first place. So, now she had to endure this shit sober until Stacy came to her rescue. Again: brilliant. Just amazing.

“Hey, you’d, uhm, you’d like another drink?”

The brunette froze. _Please, Stacy, for the love of god, save me_. Slowly, or at least so she thought, she turned her head again. Nobody. She turned a bit more until she sat with her back to the bar, because the new guy stood right behind her instead of having squeezed his way next to her, and she could tell why. His large frame could barley find enough space between the people. This one too had a beard, a bit fuller than the other guy. His face was pale although he was obviously Mexican, and his wandering eyes made him seem nervous, if not shy. He was one of the faces she made out from the corner table. How the hell did he manage to creep up on her that fast?

“Excuse me?” But before he had time to answer, she already registered his words and shook her head, pulling a grimace that meant to say ‘Thank you though’. “No, no I’m fine.” She watched the guy who was now eying her up and down, occasionally looking back at the table he came from. She didn’t dare to follow his eyes, afraid of how many people might be watching them. When she didn’t say anything else, the guy shuffled forward a little; now his thighs almost touched her knees. “Listen, you a lesbian?” She stared. Figures. When she had told the previous guy that she was here with her girlfriend, admittedly she hoped for him to understand it that way. But now that she was explicitly asked, she wouldn’t lie; at least not about her sexuality. Not that she owed him an answer in any way. But this guy seemed shy enough to back off if she offered him the truth, so, she shot her shot.

“No I’m not, sorry, I mean, I’m into girls too, yes, but-“ Ok, that didn’t go as planned. She cut another grimace and started again. “I’m just, I’m really not interested. Uhm. No offense! It’s just that-“ “What about my boy over here? Red. You’d turn him down, too?” He cut her off and pointed back to the table. She was glad for the loud music, because the noise that left her mouth sounded more like a tortured bear than anything else. “I’m sorry, really-“ “You didn’t even look.” The brunette frowned. Though his words left no room for arguing, he seemed every bit as uncomfortable with this conversation as she was. He wasn’t locking eyes with her the entire time, only when she gathered enough courage to look back at the table, did she feel his gaze on her again. Even if she would have wanted to look at all the faces, she wouldn’t have been able to – there were too many people in front of the table now, she could only make out glimpses of the people sitting at it. But she thought she saw who he meant, dressed in a dark red button-up shirt, buzzcut, dark eyes watching her absently. “Yes, wait, what was the que- oh yeah, I’d turn him down, too. Again, no offense.” She didn’t need for any of their egos to feel attacked, and maybe she went a little overboard with apologizing, but all she wanted was to not accidently stir up any drama – which was something you could never calculate with drunk men, or any men for that matter. It wasn’t even that Red wasn’t cute. He sure seemed good looking. But she wasn’t looking for good looking. She was looking for a save way out of their visor.

Suddenly the guys’ thighs touched her knees and all the brunette could do was hold her breath and stare at his stomach, almost bumping into her. Was he really going to try something in front of all these people?

“Listen, I got a girl ok. I’m only doing you a favor here: don’t upset the boss.” And just like that he made his way back to his group.

What the hell was that? Catherine watched him disappear, too relieved that he didn’t try to touch, at least on purpose, or assault her to really process his words. When she turned on her barstool again, she forgot all about the bar’s eyes on her, except for this one group. She stared at where her empty Cocktail had been and let her fingertips wander across the condensation it had left behind. **Don’t upset the boss.** Fucking _what_? _Boss_? The only logical explanation she had was also the only one she refused to believe was true. Ok, it was time to get out of here. No, that was definitely not the smartest plan. There were probably not enough people outside to help her if anyone tried following her. Plus, what if Stacy was already in the bathroom and just about to come back? Stacy. What the-Catherine turned again to look through one of the windows. She could make out three people smoking and talking, but couldn’t tell whether one of them was Stacy. Just then, her phone buzzed in her jeans. She fished it out and sighed with relief. _“Got a hottie here, gimme 10 minutes tops, I’ll be right back.”_ At least she was ok. Now what? Clenching her jaw in concentration, she tried thinking of a plan; fleeing to the toilet? She stared at her phone. _Gimme 10 minutes tops._ She sure as hell wouldn’t hide in the full bathroom for-

“This place that boring?” She didn’t have to look up from her phone to know that the person was addressing her, but still, she did. You know that meme, the one where a person sees a villain and they go ‘Oh no, fuck he’s hot’? Yeah.

“Hi. I’m Tuco.”


	2. Hi, I'm Tuco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware that this is.. a mess. It took me a fucking week and I'm still not satisfied, but honestly I would have just kept changing and changing things every 5 minutes so I'll just leave it like it is now. If there's anything that doesn't make sense, if you find grammar mistakes or what the hell ever - please let me know! ♥

“Hi. I’m Tuco.” A pause. “Tuco Salamanca.”

As soon as she laid eyes on him, Catherine froze. Even if she would have wanted to move, there was no way of standing up without bumping into the man. Contrary to the pure belief that time stood still in moments like these, it actually seemed to go by faster than ever. She only realized she was staring at him once the man raised his brows in what looked like impatience. Was that what this was about – he sent his guys first to see if she would be an easy target?

Catherine took her time looking the man up and down. Well, not literally, she didn’t want to come off rude. Still, what she saw was.. well, not what she had imagined, to be honest. Ok, here is what she expected who the man was, from what she put together from just the few words she was given, “Don’t upset the boss”: figuratively speaking, a drug dealer with the biggest dick in Albuquerque. She had expected some 6ft ripped guy in his mid-twenties with baggy clothes and gold chains dangling from his neck. Which, sure, was pretty prejudiced, but given that she had never had any business with the drug business, she couldn’t know any better.

But instead, this guy showed up. Catherine took in his comparatively short figure, his button-up, silk and yellow with some rich pattern on it, and the sly grin. Just like the other two guys, he seemed to be Mexican. If she’d have to guess, she’d say that he was in his mid- to end-thirties, maybe even early-forties. He looked reputable - hell yes, she was taken aback. He seemed more like an underdressed businessman than some weed dealer. Granted, she didn’t know for sure if that’s who he really was.

If she looked at him all prejudices aside, allowing herself to go with the safe route, all she saw was just a handsome stranger: deep brown eyes that looked almost black in the bad bar light, slightly flared nostrils that gave him a look Catherine couldn’t quite define (agitation, maybe?), lips pulled into a flirty smile. Sure, he was a little older from the guys usually hitting on her (not that there were much), but the longer she studied his face, the more handsome he seemed to become. His round nose tip actually making him look really cute.

Tuco Salamanca. The name didn’t ring a single bell. Surely she would have heard it if he was some big bad gangster, right? Then again: _Don’t upset the boss_. Who else talked like that? That sure as hell wasn’t an order from some guy from finance.

Unlike his predecessors, Tuco actually waited for an answer instead of hurrying her into one. That being said, he still had impatience written all over his face. Instead of waiting to find out when his seemingly fake patience would break, Catherine took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. _You might as well give it a shot. Third time’s the charm, right?_

“Hey. Hi. No, it’s just, I’m waiting for a friend.” She automatically looked back to the window; the people hadn’t moved and now that she knew better, she could make out Stacy amongst them, leaning against another tall figure.

The stranger, Tuco, cleared his throat. Catherine’s eyes snapped back to him. As he was pulling his hands out of his pockets, she could see how he started fidgeting with his fingers – were they slightly trembling? He was leaning against the bar now, one arm resting on the counter. Although his eyebrows were drawn into a deep frown, he was almost.. smiling? As if he was humored by something she had said. Whatever it was, it must have been good, because the longer she stared, the more intense grew that curious look on his face.

“You’re not gonna tell me your name?” He spoke loud enough for her to understand, but she still had to slightly lean forward, now her own eyebrows drawn together in concentration. He let out a shaky laugh, but his eyes kept boring into her as if he was trying to read her mind; the mixture of the almost hyper laugh but nervousness he was radiating at the same time made her feel uneasy. Something else she noticed was that he seemed irritated by something, though she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.

“Huh. You gonna make me guess? C’mon.” Tuco looked up at her through dark lashes, what with the barstool being ridiculously high and her probably being a little taller than him anyway. Yet she felt like it was him looking down own her.

“Yeah, oh, sorry – uhm, Catherine.” _Uhm Catherine?_ Wow. She was angry with herself. While she usually tried to come off as rude and arrogant when being approached by men – some sort of stupid defense mechanism that could easily get her in trouble – she now was a ridiculously nervous wreck. Then again, if she managed to make a fool out of herself for a couple more minutes, the guy might leave her be.

“Catherine.” The way he said her name made her come back to earth. The look in his eyes had softened, it wasn’t so much an intense stare as it was.. admiration? Nah. Why the hell would he even be remotely interested in her. But still. The way he said her name made it sound like he tasted some kind of exotic fruit for the first time, which actually had her fighting to suppress a smile. She liked the sound of it on his tongue, liked the way he pronounced it, liked the slight accent in his voice. Tuco seemed to have noticed how she tried to hide her smile, because he let out another laugh, this one full of relief, more like a chuckle. In the corner of her eyes she could tell his hands stopped fidgeting, one of them now resting on the countertop of the bar.

“What, I said something funny?” While usually she connected this sentence with someone trying to threaten her, the guy’s eyes seemed to glisten up with something – hope, maybe, that she would say, yes, he made her laugh. Catherine tiled her head, allowing herself to give him the benefit of the doubt and smiled at him.

“No, it’s just- sorry.” Contrary to what she said, her smile deepened even more. There was almost an eager look on his face, like a puppy that just learned it would get a treat for doing something right. _Fuck, he’s adorable._ The thought crept up on her and actually made her choke.

“Hey, you ok?” Tuco leaned forward and reached out to pat her back, but as soon as she felt his hand touching her shoulder, Catherine flinched away from the touch, back into the barstool. While guys usually pretended like they didn’t notice, this one had hurt, or no not even hurt, but rather the shock from her rejection written all over his face. He seemed to gather himself pretty quickly though, trying to cover up his reaction with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Just like that, her own face turned into a regretful grimace. You see, trying to make her talk wasn’t the difficult part – though it was not easy, by any means. The difficult part was making her feel comfortable. His chance of doing that practically vanished once he indicated to buy her a drink. The thing was, he could have easily _just_ been nice to her. Engaging in a conversation to get to know each other – platonically. By offering her a drink though, he turned this conversation into a flirt without realizing that that was exactly what Catherine dreaded. It would end up with the brunette probably falling back into her defense mechanism, being an asshole, and so trying to get rid of the guy. A flirt in a bar, alcohol was involved – that would lead to kissing, wouldn’t it? Kissing led to his hands on her. Which, ultimately, would lead to him being disgusted by her. Catherine wasn’t having-

“Water?” Water? Oh. OH. Catherine Wexler, yours truly, an overreacting bitch. She coughed one last time, hiding her face in the crook of her arm, before she turned to look at Tuco again. When did he turn so concerned? He hadn’t moved his hand from where Catherine had pushed it away, lingering in the air a few centimeters away from her shoulder.

“Listen, I already told your friends, I’m not here for a flirt. I only want..”, I only want to go the fuck home, “.. honestly I just, this isn’t my thing. It’s nothing against you personally, I just don’t do.. this.” She once again tried to explain herself by making wild gestures with her hands, pointing at him then back at herself, all the while the man’s eyes followed her hands, then went back to her face to study her some more. By the time she realized she wasn’t making any sense, at least not to anyone else but herself, she had run out of breath and tried looking anywhere but the intense stare that made her squirm in the barstool. Why was he starring? _I made a fool out of myself, alright, now please let me eat my humble pie in peace. Why don’t you search for some hot chick, there’s plenty._ But he just kept staring and staring. God, how did he _do_ that?

Catherine had never been good with time management, but she was a hundred percent sure that by the time she had mostly calmed down, Tuco had been watching her for at least three minutes. Which was, if you thought about it, insanely long. Especially with her having nowhere to hide. There was also another thing she was very sure of though – this couldn’t get any worse. A complete stranger was staring her down at a bar, not even from across a table, just, literally standing right next to her. What would he do, knife her then and there? _What’s with the fucking fear of this guy, Jesus Christ, calm down._

That’s when she made the decision to stare back. Later, she couldn’t tell whether it was that little gesture that lead to everything that happened later, but she didn’t care either way. Green eyes stared back into brown ones, and as she studied his expression – which was impossible, by the way – she felt like a preschooler being sat in front of a Stephen Hawking documentary. She would later learn that trying to understand Tuco, to really get to the bottom of his being, was like trying to explore the ocean. Sure, you’d make various incredible discoveries throughout your studies, but a life time couldn’t solve its mystery.

“What do you mean, you don’t do this?” Catherine blinked in surprise. Out of all the things he could have said, ‘You think you’re better than me?’ ‘Fuck you’ ‘Fine whatever’ ‘Come on, don’t be like that’, he wanted her to _explain_? She was so perplexed that she didn’t realize she hadn’t said a word.

“I’m serious, you gonna tell me or not?” Confusion was slowly spreading over his features. Catherine liked that – it gave her somewhat control over how the next few seconds would go. When she turned away from him to face the bar again, she felt rude for doing so, but not as rude as she felt embarrassed by how lost she was. Fingertips absently tracing the counter tops’ wood pattern, she decided to just go for it. If she finally told him why he didn’t want to choose her out of all people, that sure would make things easier, right?

“I don’t.. date, ok? Which is ridiculous to even say out loud ‘cause like, we’re in a bar, and you’re probably not even hitting on me anyway, and even if you were, why on earth would you want to date me, you don’t even want that, I mean I guess, in fact, who goes to a bar for dates at all, and even if you do, I’m not, I mean, good for you, I’m not judging, I’m just – there’s nothing gonna come from this”, without looking up, she pointed at Tuco and then at herself, “so I’m just saving your time here really, so you can go off and, I don’t know, search for someone who wants to make out or whatever, so on a certain degree I’m kinda doing you a favor here.” By the time she finished rambling, she was gasping for air to calm herself down. What. Was. That. She didn’t dare to look into the guy’s face, nor to even look up from her fingers, too afraid that somebody might’ve heard her – though that would be ridiculous, she wasn’t even sure if Tuco heard her, the music was blasting so loud. Plus, by the following silence, it sure seemed like he didn’t get a word of what she had said. Maybe he left? Catherine took a last deep breath, bracing herself for whatever shit she might have gotten herself into, before she slowly turned her head.

There he was. The faintest smile played across his lips, titled head and squinted eyes were watching her. And just like before, he seemed humored. There was a moment of intense silence as they stared at each other (because that was their thing now, apparently).

“Wow. You got quite a mouth on you, don’t you?” Tuco’s voice was so quiet she wasn’t even sure if she had understood him correctly. Either way, she couldn’t do anything but concentrate on the tip of his nose – looking into his eyes seemed practically impossible. A few seconds went by in which he tilted his head to one side. _Seems like he loves to take his time_. His lips were twitching like he was trying to decide whether to give into a laugh or not.

“You know, you tried to talk your way out of this pretty smoothly, I’ll give you that. But that still doesn’t explain why you don’t want to give this”, his smile turned somewhat mischievous as he copied her gesture from before, pointing first at her then at himself, “a try.” One arm on the counter top of the bar again, Tuco seemed as calm as ever. The brunette couldn’t decide whether it made him all the more charming that he didn’t seem to be a quitter, or made her all the more frustrated. And caught. Again, like a deer in fucking headlights.

In that moment Catherine decided that she’d just go for it. She had been honest so far, and truth be told, since she didn’t expect to ever see the guy again, because she definitely wasn’t planning on coming to this bar ever again (or any bar, as a matter of fact), why not put all cards on the table? Anxiety would haunt her ass for the next few weeks anyway, might as well make it really count.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly your type. I’m not _thick_ , ok? I’m- these curves? They don’t look smooth underneath all these clothes.” There, she said it. And as she felt tears building in her eyes, she realized it was the first time that she ever said this, her fear, out loud. “Sorry, I’m – it was nice meeting you.” Instead of giving the man a chance to answer or even react at all, Catherine shook her head, once again hiding behind her hair, and slid from the barstool, slightly bumping into Tuco. His hands shot up to steady her by her hips, but in the last second he changed his mind and reached for her elbow. A what felt like hundredth “sorry” later, she squeezed her way out of the bar.

When the chill evening wind hit her cheeks, she felt relief flood over her. She was out. And, as Catherine realized there was nobody else outside with her: she was alone. No more humiliation. No making fool of yourself, no embarrassment. The tears that had threatened to spill over were gone, she could finally breathe again. She was so distracted by finally getting some fresh air into her lungs and being able to actually relax her tensed muscles, she hadn’t realized that the door behind her flew open once more. Hands in her hair, pushing it out of her face to feel as much of the coolness of the evening as possible, Catherine let out a shaky breath. “Fuck me.”

The chuckle that followed made her jump so hard she thought her heart was about to break out of her ribcage. When she spun around, she felt her heart sink to her feet.

“Oh, sorry!” Tuco was holding both his hands up in surrender, but the amused half-smile wasn’t fooling anyone. Catherine was so surprised that she laughed back, now pressing her hands against her chest. She hadn’t been completely wrong; they were actually about the same height. He sounded so different from when they were in the bar, too. It was the first time she could clearly hear his voice and it, I kid you not, made goosebumps creep up on her arms. It wasn’t even his voice itself (although she couldn’t deny that its low sound and that stupid accent of his did something to her body), it was just – his tone seemed so unpredictable. It’s like, he sounded so calm and collected, but there was still this weird vibration in his voice that made it sound like he could lose his shit in about 0.3 seconds. But for all Catherine knew he could be the calmest person on this planet.

“No, it’s fine, I’m-“, she looked down, another laugh shaking her body. She took a few seconds to catch her breath, gather her mind. Once she did though, she was reminded of yours truly opening up. Great. Her laughter slowly died away, but the ghost of a hesitant smile was still on her lips. She could see the expression on Tuco’s face change as well. He looked cautious now, hands falling to his sides as he slowly took a step forward, watching Catherine closely. She didn’t move, but made sure he left it at that one step.

“Listen, I don’t know what that was back there, but do I look like some preschooler who didn’t grow pubes yet? I’m hurt”, Tuco chuckled again and broke eye contact for the first time, studying the ground at her feet. “I know what I’m about, I ain’t stupid. And-”, he broke off and snorted, looking at her like she made some stupid joke. Then he let his eyes wander over Catherine’s frame. There was something other than hunger in them, but she couldn’t for the life of her tell what it was. She stood still, fingers nervously fidgeting with the zipper of her jacket. “What were you talking about, anyway, you’re not my type? Why don’t you let me decide what my type is. You..”, Tuco stopped again as his hands traced the shape of her in the air between them, “..are gorgeous. But”, he let his hands sink, hiding them in his pockets, looking like a defeated boy, “how about you at least give me a chance. Let me try and change your mind? No touching. I promise.”

Catherine stood, baffled, not daring to move a muscle. This was, easily, the farthest she’s ever went with a guy. Or rather talked to one. Nobody had ever shown enough interest in her to try to persuade her in any way shape or form. Sure, this might not be a big deal for many other women, god knows. But for Catherine, this was a first, and so much so that she had absolutely no fucking clue how to go on from here. Rationally speaking, she knew that if Tuco wouldn’t be serious, he never in a million years would have brought up that no-touching-part. Her anxiety begged her to choose the safe side, to just go home and never take any risks. Was she ready to face this? The ignorance of not knowing what agreeing would get her into? She would throw herself into the unknown, to the freaking sharks. So, she decided to test the water first.

“What about your friends? Hm? What was that about? You sent them to hit on me? See if I would take the bait?” He didn’t expect that. Catherine could tell by how surprised he looked, reversing their roles – a deer watching a lion like it was about to attack the massive cat.

“Listen, I don’t like liars, so. I saw you and blondie enter the bar earlier; you caught my eye. One of my guys noticed. No-Doze back there-”, Tuco watched her confused blink. “The first one who hit on you. He said you’d go for anyone, out of desperation.” He broke eye contact once more to study the ground between them, a deep frown on his face. “When you shot him down, he sent Gonzo, the big guy, to see if you were maybe just picky, but you even turned out Nacho.” Who the fuck was Nacho? “Turns out, I seem to have a pretty good taste in women.” With that he looked up again, a cheeky smile plastered across his face.

She had no idea what he meant with that last part, but at least she got an explanation. So that’s what that was. Maybe she should’ve been more careful. Sceptic. Maybe she should have felt offended. Though okay, she was. But truth be told, she felt way too overwhelmed with the ridiculousness of the entire situation, of her actually having this conversation right now, to even care. What the fuck, right?

“Ok.” She shot out the word so fast she wasn’t sure if she had actually said it. Only when Tuco’s eyes lit up like that of a puppy again did she know that this was real. His back was straightened now, as if ready to catch any bone she’d throw him. Fuck it. “Yeah, fine, ok. I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, oh my god.” She tried to stifle her hysterical laugh behind the back of her hand, failing miserably. “Uhm, I don’t know how this works, but maybe, uh, we could..” Catherine frowned and inspected the bar sign so she didn’t have to look at Tuco as she tried to come up with an idea.

“Dinner?” His voice was so calm compared to hers, she wasn’t sure if she wouldn’t have had agreed to anything he said at this point. Luckily, her overthinking mind prevented her from doing so.

“How about drinks?” Great, very nice impression. Tuco didn’t seem to think anything of it though. When she looked at him again, he only slightly nodded, giving her that soft smile.

“Here? Tomorrow?”

“God no. This is not- this isn’t my scene, I’m only here because of a friend.” She let out a bark of a laugh. _What then, dumbass?_ You can do this. Think of something. A place that serves drinks but isn’t a bar and is relatively empty. She was lost. Why did she have to be so goddamn.. like this? When Tuco came to her rescue, she was seconds away from kissing his feet right then and there.

“You know what, why don’t we just meet for breakfast? Saturday, 10am at El Michoacáno’s?” Catherine wasn’t sure whether he suggested it on purpose or not – if he had seen her struggling or if he was just tired of waiting – but she was sure she had never looked at anyone with more thankfulness in her life. Or at least that’s how she felt. Tuco seemed to notice, the corners of his mouth twitching in response again. Either she was ridiculously obvious, or he was very good at catching his opponents’ reactions. She didn’t like either option.

“Can we make it next Saturday? I have.. a thing tomorrow. “ Tuco frowned, but nodded. “I’ll go see if my friend is..”, she was halfway back to the bar again when Tuco hold her back by her arm.

“Hey, wait a second. Don’t you wanna exchange numbers? Just in case?” Catherine probably looked as tortured as she felt, because his vigorous look instantly split up into apologizing puppy eyes. “Just in case you decide to cancel on me, so you can give me a heads-up if you decide not to show up”, he clarified. The brunette let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding _. Chill the fuck out, Cat._

“Of course, yeah! Do you have a pen, or..?” She watched him pull out his phone, click a few buttons and then hand it to her. She saved her number under “Cat” and handed Tuco back his phone; he looked at it for a second and nodded, clearly satisfied. “Give me a call whenever so I have your number and can cancel on you.” Her chuckle died as soon as Tuco’s eyes snapped to her face, silencing her in a matter of seconds. Just as he seemed to realize that she made a joke, she realized that he just misunderstood her, and their words were crossing as they apologized, awkward giggling filling the air. Later that week she’d think about that wild look in his eyes almost every night.

They said goodbye to each other rather quickly after that – even if Tuco would have wanted to continue the conversation, which he very well might have, Catherine was out of there the second he put his phone away. And after another couple of minutes of convincing Stacey to leave, they did. The blonde was shitfaced, though it was a mystery to Catherine how she had managed to get there in a matter of just, what, half an hour? She didn’t tell Stacey about what had happened, just rambled on about how her boss had called and needed her to come in first thing tomorrow morning. Stacey took the bait easy enough (after some loud complaints) which Catherine was more than grateful for.

“Okay, cut the bullshit. I saw someone talking to you. Dude didn’t even look that bad, you gave him your number?”

Catherine stared at her friend as the latter one opened her the door to her apartment. “Do I look like I give people my number?”

Stacey stared back for a full 10 seconds before sighing and turning her back on the brunette to switch on the light. “You should throw yourself out there, maybe that’ll help with whatever keeps you locked up in those four walls of yours.”

“Yeah, fuck you too. Hey, make sure to lock the door, alright?”

“Text me when you’re home!” _As if you’re still awake by then._

They only lived about 5 minutes away from each other, but when Catherine opened her own and texted Stacy, she knew the blonde was already deep in Neverland. She took her time taking off her clothes, washing off the make-up, taking a shower. This was her favorite part of every day – finally being in the comfort of her own home, crawling into bed and losing herself in a book. If only she knew.

_Tuco_. _Next Saturday. Breakfast. Tuco. Next Saturday. Breakfast. Tuco. Ne-_

Ah, there it was. This was gonna be one hell of a fun week.

**Author's Note:**

> Ho man, I feel like this is a mess but I'm trying my best here. For any of you who didn't pick up on it: this is not only going to feature social anxiety but also body issues (basically the latter one leads to the first). If that triggers you, you might not want to continue this story. I'm not gonna sugar coat anything, because, well, why should I? That being said, (spoiler warning (not really)) things will get better for Catherine throughout the story, it just might take some time. If or how that affects her and Tuco's developing relationship, we'll see.


End file.
